


Fertile Ground

by sunaddicted



Series: Tumblr Prompts 2020 [3]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Angst, Blood and Violence, Canon Divergence - Skyfall, Captivity, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Random & Short, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:53:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26345908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunaddicted/pseuds/sunaddicted
Summary: The words were poisoned seedlings - at some point, they started to flourish as James went to screaming himself raw, to mocking, to crying.
Relationships: James Bond/Raoul Silva | Tiago Rodriguez
Series: Tumblr Prompts 2020 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1654798
Comments: 2
Kudos: 22





	Fertile Ground

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: "things you said while I was crying"

_Fertile Ground_

James was a gambler.

He lived for the odds, for the thrill that came with putting his own life in jeopardy - teetering on an invisible edge, life on one side and death on the other.

Up until that moment, he had always been lucky to the point of seeming almost supernatural.

Silva’s words rang in his ears as loud as alarms - _life clung to me like a disease_.

He loathed the mere thought that they might have anything in common, it made his skin crawl with disgust and recognition; as he shivered in his bonds, the zip ties digging in the tender flesh of his wrists, James recoiled from all proof that he was more similar than the agent gone rogue than he liked to admit - down to the fact that he had been seemingly abandoned to his own devices on Silva’s island, a stronghold lost amidst the sea.

“She hasn’t changed, I see”

James thinned his lips into a thin line, refusing to react to the words and to the caress that ran along his cheek, knuckles as swollen as his own by a life of violence, shaped one fight after the other.

He couldn’t afford letting Silva get into his head.

It was fertile ground.

“She won’t come”

“She doesn’t care”

“You’re nothing more than a toy to be discarded, James”

“They moved on - _she_ moved on”

The words were poisoned seedlings - at some point, they started to flourish as James went to screaming himself raw, to mocking, to crying.

To leaning into the caresses of those dangerous hands, shivers running down his spine at the knowledge that death always was at the other’s fingertips; there were ugly things agitating at the bottom of his belly, roiling together as thickly as an oil slick on the frothy peaks of a tempestuous ocean - desire, anger, shame, want.

When Silva tilted his head to the side and brought their lips together, James parted his own in acceptance - only to bite the other’s lower lip bloody, red saliva smeared between their mouths as Silva just didn’t let go: it would take a lot more than a little violence to scare the man away, Silva could handle him.

The _real_ him.

It was a too intoxicating of a feeling to let go of.


End file.
